


Continued

by TipandMalarkey



Series: ACOTAR Uni AU [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-12-02 11:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11508357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TipandMalarkey/pseuds/TipandMalarkey
Summary: Little stories and drabbles and stuff based on my previous work A Court of Love and Lies, hope you like them and I'm open for suggestions!





	1. Telling the Inner Circle

“You have got to be shitting me.” Mor said at last, dumbfounded at the revelation.  
They were all sat in front of Feyre and Rhysand, as if they were a group of toddlers about to be told off. Cassian was slouched into an orange beanbag, Mor was leaning against the wall. Amren’s head on her lap, lying across the rest of the bed. Azriel was sat on the floor, his back rick rod straight, following the frame of the bed.  
Rhysand shook his head solemnly at her and responded, “We are, in fact, not shitting you.” Feyre’s eyes travelled from each of her friends, taking in their shocked faces. The only one who didn’t look completely surprised was Amren, but Feyre reckoned nothing could shake her.  
Cassian was the next to speak, “But why did you have to fake it anyway? What was the point?” he asked. Rhysand opened his mouth to tell Cass that it didn’t matter why, but Feyre cut in before he could.  
“Tamlin.” She said simply.  
They all understood. Though Rhysand was the only one who knew the entire story, and Mor knew most of it, they all knew enough.  
They were all smart enough to figure out that the only way she could escape from Tamlin was to do what she did, that she wouldn’t have done it otherwise.  
Feyre’s eyes settled on Azriel, and she could see the storm brewing behind his own. Azriel had the most protective nature out of all of them, knowing what it was like to be mistreated by the people closest to you, even if he didn’t know exactly how Tamlin had mistreated Feyre.  
When he looked up at her she smiled at him gently, and his shoulders relaxed, the clouds disappearing from his eyes.

“Why did you not tell me?” Mor asked suddenly. “Why didn’t you tell me at the beginning?”  
Even though she didn’t say it, Feyre could hear the end to her unfinished sentence _I’m your best friend, you’re meant to tell me these things._  
“Because every person we told meant a higher possibility of Tamlin finding out.” Feyre explained. The hurt in Mors eyes was clear, and Feyre looked at her with pleading eyes, _please understand. Please understand that I do trust you, but I couldn’t risk Tamlin finding out. I just couldn’t._  
“Why tell us at all?” Amren piqued up, sounding bored despite her question.  
“Because our relationship was a lie before, and you all thought it was real,” Rhysand began, “but now it is real, and we want you to know that what was fake, was fake.”  
Everyone was silent for a couple moments, digesting what Rhysand had just said.  
“Not the most eloquent you’ve ever been, but I think we understand,” Azriel mused.  
Rhysand grinned at his friend, “Well, I can’t be perfect now all the time can I?”


	2. The Hen-Do

“Feyre!” Mor called out to her friend as she stumbled down the steps up ahead. Unlike her friend, Mor glided down the stairs, the entourage behind her just as graceful.   
When the group finally reached Feyre, she was sat at the edge of a small, clear water pond whose surrounding trees were draped with twinkling fairy lights. She was sitting calmly and cross-legged, as if she hadn’t suddenly burst away from their dancing circle and ran out of the club, knocking over three people and spilling more than a few drinks, as well as falling over at least twice once she had gotten outside.   
Mor stopped a couple of feet back, but Amren just carried on towards the bride-to-be. “I know you can’t hold your drink, girl, but I didn’t think it would make you act like this.” She said, almost sounding cheerful at the unexpected turn of events.   
But Feyre didn’t reply, didn’t even look at the small girl next to her as she waited expectantly.  
“Feyre, what’s wrong?” Elain’s soft voice asked from behind them. She sat down next to Feyre, crossing her legs to face her sister. Reaching towards her, Elain tucked a wisp of the golden-blonde hair that all three sisters shared behind her ear.   
The small gesture made Feyre turn to look at her older sister. Grey-blue eyes met Elain’s and started intently, as if Feyre was searching for an answer.   
Finally, she whispered in a cracked voice, “What if it doesn’t last?”

Silence radiated through the group. Feyre was talking about her and Rhys, what else could she mean? “What are you talking about?” Mor said, somewhat horrified, and hurried to her friend, kneeling in the small gap between Feyre and Amren. Nesta followed and sat behind Elain, who scooched around a bit to make room for her.   
Feyre looked around at Mor, then once again looked out over the surface of the pond, taking a few deep breaths before responding. “Back in there I was thinking that this is amazing. That who could have guessed that a fake relationship would end up in a real one I was so happy in. But then I thought… what if it’s _still_ not real?”   
“You have got to be joking right? Do you really think that Rhysand would pretend to love you? And go through all of this-”  
“No, Mor, I don’t mean it like that. Cauldron, no, I know Rhys isn’t like that.” Feyre interrupted, shaking her head.   
“Well how do you mean then?” An edge still in her voice. Mor loved Feyre, but there was so way she was going to let her say anything bad about her cousin.   
“She thinks they might have tricked themselves into falling in love with each other.” Nesta said before her sister could speak. Everyone except Feyre turned to look at the eldest Archeron sister in confusion, but Nesta’s gaze didn’t stray from Feyre. “It’s like how actors and actresses in movies whose characters are together end up together in real life. Pretend to be in love and it’ll eventually happen.”  
Feyre smiled bleakly, “Got it in one.”   
Amren looked at her evenly, “Do you honestly think that though?”   
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. It’s a possibility isn’t it?”  
“There’s also a possibility that a grand piano is going to drop out of the sky and squash all of us, but the chance of that happening is _very slim_.” Mor said, somewhat exasperated. “Come on Feyre, think about it. You’ve been together for how long now?”  
“Five years.” She replied, smiling at the thought of it.  
“Exactly!” Mor exclaimed. “Don’t you think you would have realised by now if you weren’t actually in love? And when you were pretending to be together, you were still being yourselves, you weren’t playing a character.”   
“She’s got a point,” Elain quietly interjected, Amren and Nesta nodding in agreement.  
Feyre looked at her best friend and smiled, “Wow, you sure do want us together don’t you?”  
“Of course I do!” Mor all but shouted, “You make each other happy! Plus once you’re married you’ll officially be my family.”   
Feyre laughed, because she knew Mor was right. It was just pre-wedding jitters, she realised that now. “I suppose we have Tamlin to thank for all this.” Feyre mused.   
“How in the hell?” Nesta and Amren said at the same time.   
“Because he was why you and Rhysand did the fake dating in the first place? Cauldron, you’re saying one ridiculous thing after the other tonight.” Mor said, flopping to the ground in yet more exasperation. “If you and Tamlin hadn’t gotten together, you and Rhys would have been together for six years now instead of five.”   
“What? No?” Feyre said incredulously. She was pretty sure Rhys had only become interested in her in that way since they started fake dating.  
“Um, _yes_.” Mor replied. “That boy absolutely adored you from the moment he met you. Cauldron Feyre, you are _clueless_.”


	3. Confrontation

Feyre was sat on one of the worn down benches in the Prythian University cafeteria, picking at a blueberry muffin while reading The Handmaid’s Tale, when someone sat down next to her. She took no notice, assuming it to be one of her friends joining her for some peace and quiet – they all know not to disturb her when she’s reading.  
“Hello, Feyre.” The person next to her said. At the sound of his voice Feyre froze. She hadn’t heard from him in months, thought that he had finally given up and was going to leave her alone.  
“What do you want, Tamlin?” Feyre said curtly, closing her book.  
“I wanted to see how you were doing.” He replied, no sarcasm or bite in his voice.  
“How I’m doing?” Feyre scoffed, “I was great, actually, until you came and sat with me.”  
She got up and started to leave, but was stopped by Tamlin’s hand on her arm. But unlike last time he grabbed her, this wasn’t painful. It was meant to make her pause rather than force her to stay.  
Feyre whipped her head around to look at him, thunder in her eyes and he quickly let go, saying “Why won’t you ever talk to me?”  
Feyre just stared at him as if he was a madman.  
“Why don’t I talk to you?” she said incredulously, and Tamlin just nodded.  
“Jeez, have you ever thought about the fact that it might be because when we were together you orchestrated isolating me from my friends, didn’t let me go out or even _talk_ to anyone except you, Lucien, Mor and my sisters.” She hissed, trying to keep her voice down so no one around them heard. “Not to mention that I was downright _scared_ of you ever hurting me if I did something that displeased you, and that when I finally did break it off with you, you persistently messaged me, called me, _stalked_ me. And when I was with someone else you still didn’t let me go, you still thought I belonged to you. But heads up, buddy, I don’t belong to anyone except myself.”  
With that, she spun around and walked away, but froze once again when she heard the two words she never thought would ever come out of Tamlin’s mouth:  
“I’m sorry Feyre.”  
Seeing her freeze, Tamlin hurried over to her and continued. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I was blinded with feelings and jealousy and I know that’s not an excuse, but I’m sorry.”  
Feyre stared at him in shock. He looked so earnest, so full of regret. _This_ was the Tamlin that she fell for.  
“I hope you find happiness with Rhysand, Feyre.” He said, and then walked away.  
She stared at him as she left, dumbfounded at what just happened, and felt arms slip around her waist.  
Rhysand rested his head on her shoulder and murmured into her ear “How did that go then?”  
“You saw everything?” Feyre asked, leaning back into him.  
“Uh huh.” He said, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.  
“And you didn’t come over?” Feyre asked, a little surprised. Rhysand was protective, so it was unlike him to have seen her with Tamlin and not have even come over.  
Rhys span her around in his arms and grinned, “Well of course I knew you could take him yourself, I watched over just as an extra precaution.”  
“Ah, I see,” Feyre replied, a wink in her voice. She twined her fingers with his and led him back to her table.  
“What did he want anyway?” He asked.   
“For me to be happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've written anything! Exams and work and people visiting, its been hectic! I promise i am planning that Nessian fic, it's just taking me a while to come up with the whole plot! ~ Tip


	4. The First Kiss

Rhysand was in disbelief over what had just happened. He couldn't believe that Feyre  _loved_ him. That she actually felt the same way about him. They had walked back to her dorm room, telling each other when their feelings changed from affection to something more.   
When they finally got to Feyre's room they stood in front of the bed unsure where to go from there after they had finished their stories. Rhysand new that their physical relationship was going to develop slowly, but he couldn't care less. He had Feyre now and if for the whole time they were together she only wanted to kiss that would be fine with him.   
Feyre glanced toward the bed and then looked back to the man stood in front of her. She swallowed before saying, "I know that we're in a proper relationship now, but we're still going to have to go slow on the, um,  _physical_ side of the relationship..." she trailed off.   
Rhysand just smiled gently at her, "I couldn't ask for anything more Feyre. Even if it took a year before we did anything other than kiss I wouldn't care, because I have you now and that's all that matters."  
Heart swelling at his response, Feyre noddedd. She couldn't believe how understanding and patient he was compared to Tamlin. Rhysand pulled her towards him, engulfing her in a hug, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Feyre's arms wrapped around his waist, but leaned away slightly so she could look up at him.   
"Kiss me." She whispered, and Rhys was more than happy to oblige. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against hers, relishing their softness. Pulling away slightly, he let Feyre decide if she wanted to continue or not. He didn't want to scare her away. But Feyre just pushed herfelf towards him, making their lips meet again. Feyre opened her mouth slightly, encouraging Rhys to do the same as she kissed him again. Moving her arms from around his waist to twine behind his neck, his arms dropped down to her waist, where they pulled her closer, keeping her body flush against his.   
Knowing that Feyre would have to make every first move on the physical side of the relationship, she touched her tongue to his lips, which he welcomed instantly.

Their kissing had been slow and gentle, but when Rhys picked Feyre up and then sat on her bed so that she was straddling him, her kisses became hungrier. She hadn't been kissed like this in so long, hadn't been kissed like this and  _enjoyed_ it for even longer.   
Rhys let out a soft moan as she bit his lip and whispered to her "You wicked thing." Feyre just smiled against his lips. His hands crept under her top, but he kept them placed low on her waist. He felt like he was going to combust, each kiss Feyre pressed to his neck another little flame-

"Woah, okay, yeah you were right Feyre, I really don't want to see this." A voice said from the doorway. Feyre leaped off of Rhysand and sat further down the bed, legs drawn up to her chest and her face burning red.  
Rhysand just smiled at his childhood friend, "Well Mor, you could have knocked." he said, leaning back to rest on his elbows. Feyre half hated how relaxed he always was, how he never got embarrassed.   
"Knock on my own room door?" Mor chucked her bag on her bed and opened the door again, "I'm going to go see Amren because I don't want to be around  _this_ ," she said with a wave towards the couple, "Just remember to tie a sock on the door or something next time."   
The door shut behind her and Feyre groaned in embarrassment, flopping back onto her bed. Rhysand just laughed and leaned over her.   
"So, you have a sock anywhere?" he asked. Feyre glared and him and whacked him gently on the chest, which made Rhys laugh again before he closed the distance between them and she melted into his kisses once again. 


End file.
